Families suspect foul play in loved ones' overdose deaths but investigations stall with no witnesses

On some nights, Justin Barriault's laugh reverberated through Bear Island as he chatted and played games with friends and family around the fire.

"You could hear him laughing — it just echoed," remembered his mother, Michelle Barriault, who also lives in the tight-knit community of about 200 Anishinaabe residents on Temagami Lake in northern Ontario.

But the residents of Bear Island no longer get to hear his laugh. 

On April 1, Barriault died of an opioid overdose in Greater Sudbury at age 26. His death stunned his community, friends and family. 

"During his funeral, people came up to me and said, 'We didn't know he did [opioids],' they couldn't believe this happened to him," said Michelle Barriault, who is convinced her son never used opioids before his untimely death.

She suspects foul play was involved in Justin's passing, as his hat, shoes, wallet, phone, airpods, computer, speakers, watch, jewelry and cash were all missing when his body was found.

Over the past three months, Michelle and her sister Christine Lalonde have been looking for answers. 

"We need some closure," said Michelle Barriault. "Our whole family is living with the loss of him every day. It'll always be there, until someone says something." 

Lalonde said all the family needs is to hear from someone who was there the night he died, so the family can find "some kind of answer."

Rumors of 'hotshots' in the community

On the night her son died, Michelle went to visit him at his friend's house in Sudbury. They had made plans to meet up early the next day to run some errands.

Around 2 a.m., she received a good-night text — the last time she heard from him. 

Police reached out to her late in the afternoon the following day to inform her Justin's body had been found in the basement of his friend's house.

An autopsy later revealed there was two and a half times the lethal dose of carfentanil in Justin's system.

People who were at the house told police they tried to revive him using CPR and the opioid rescue medication naloxone, but the coroner told the family there were no traces of that life-saving medicine in his system.

Michelle believes her son was a victim of a "hotshot."

That term encompasses many things, said Evie Ali, executive director of Go Give Project, a Sudbury outreach organization.

"It refers to an injection that was administered without the consent of the person receiving the injection, which oftentimes can result in them falling asleep," she said. 

"In rare cases, it can lead to an overdose." 

Ali added a hotshot could also refer to a substance being contaminated with poison or another substance without the knowledge of the person using it. It could also apply to other ways of using drugs, such as inhalation.

"It seems to be an ill-intended act to gain something from the person who has experienced the hotshot," said Ali. 

In her experience, hotshot incidents are rare, but they do happen.

Justin had a lot of valuable items with him the night he died, and Lalonde is convinced he was given a hotshot so he could be robbed of his belongings.

Investigating an overdose death is complex

Whether Justin consented to using drugs or consented to use one drug that turned out to be laced with another are questions the coroner and police can't answer. 

"Overdose deaths are very complex and come with unique challenges from an investigative standpoint," said Barry Ornella, a detective staff sergeant with Greater Sudbury police. 

He said detectives are called to the scene when "there is evidence outside of what one might expect in an overdose death."

For instance, signs of forced entry or witness testimony can suggest a crime may have been committed. 

Ornella said police look to speak with anyone who was present during the overdose, but they do not have the authority to compel people to share information. 

"The Charter of Rights and Freedoms allows everyone the right to silence, and people exercise that right." 

Ornella added that often, anyone who was with the person who overdosed is reluctant to co-operate with a police investigation. 

"They're fearful they may somehow be criminally implicated," he said. 

Ornella stressed the Good Samaritan Act offers protection in that regard, but that investigators struggle to gain trust and co-operation from those who were there. 

"We would like to provide answers to the families," he said. "But sometimes we can't because unfortunately individuals do not come forward and help us fill in the gaps." 

Stigmatization and secrecy surrounding drug use adds another challenge. 

"People who use drugs may feel shame or reluctance to share their struggle with friends or family," said Ornella. 

"There's times where people use them behind closed doors, away from their support system." 

He added that when people who use drugs are incapacitated by substances, their belongings can go missing, which adds another layer of complexity to the investigation.

If police wanted to press manslaughter or murder charges for a hotshot, they would need a lot of evidence as these are very serious charges.

"Undoubtedly, we would need the co-operation of witnesses to help us reach the point where we can identify the individual who knowingly supplied a lethal dose of a drug to an individual," said Ornella.

He said some late manslaughter charges have been laid in recent years, but these involved people who contaminated the drug supply. 

The Greater Sudbury Police Service says it has shifted its approach when it comes to cases that involve opioids, to focus on prevention work.

"We're not going to arrest our way out of the opioid crisis," said Ornella. 

Families fear police will jump to conclusions

Michelle Barriault and Christine Lalonde fear that, as Justin's death was ruled accidental, the investigation will not be thorough. 

They said police told them they could not provide any assistance to retrieve Justin's cellphone or computer — devices that may contain important information. 

The phone service provider, in turn, said they could not help locate the device, as this is the police service's mandate. 

But they did confirm the phone was used in the weeks that followed Justin's death.

That information was relayed to police, but no attempt was made to retrieve the devices, according to Lalonde. 

"They told us that we are not in a movie, and this case will not be resolved in 45 minutes."

A grieving that lasts a lifetime

Christene Neville also lost her son, 34-year-old Christopher Neville, to an opioid overdose, on March 23, 2022. 

He had a history of fentanyl use, but had stopped using in the year before he died. 

He was found in a friend's apartment and had been dead for seven hours when first responders were called to the scene.

"He was about to start a new job, he was healthy, he was happy," said Christene Neville, who cannot make sense of what happened.

A few months after his death, she received a message from a woman alleging Christopher was intentionally overdosed to be robbed of his things. 

She forwarded the woman's contact information to the detective in charge of her case, but said the police never reached out to this woman.

"I called [the detective] and asked, 'Why aren't you doing something?'" recalled Christene. "He tells me he is trying, but deep down, I feel he's not." 

The Barriault and Neville families feel they have been robbed and their lives have been forever changed. 

Just before his death, Justin was talking about becoming a father and enrolling in Cambrian College. 

As for Christopher, he had a strong and close relationship with his daughter, and was about to start a new chapter in his life.